


Making This Cold Harbour Now Home: A Fire Emblem: Three Houses Story

by panda_reads



Series: Seasonal Affections (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) [4]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Background Relationships, Celebrations, F/M, Families of Choice, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route Spoilers, Implied/Referenced Sex, Love, M/M, Married Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Multi, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Reunions, Romance, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28801818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_reads/pseuds/panda_reads
Summary: Winter comes to Fódlan. Friends and lovers reunite in Fhirdiad, promises are made, plans are put in motion, and a long year comes to a close.Series: Seasonal Affections, Part 4: Winter
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Ingrid Brandl Galatea, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth, Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: Seasonal Affections (Fire Emblem: Three Houses) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1921654
Comments: 10
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Series: Seasonal Affections, Part 4: Winter
> 
> Timeline: Approx. 2.5 years post-war phase, six weeks after Part 3: Summer
> 
> Title from: ‘Sons & Daughters’ – The Decemberists (from ‘The Crane Wife’, 2006)
> 
> Notes: Your patience, dear readers, is appreciated. Here’s to seeing the back end of 2020, and to letting our imaginations provide some much-needed respite.

Fresh snow dusted the road into Fhirdiad. Unbroken drifts arced against the city walls, their unbroken surfaces sparkling beneath the moon and stars. Byleth exhaled a foggy breath into the evening air, tipped her face up from her cloak, stared into the sky above. She tightened her grip on Isa’s reins, and the horse snorted, stomped her hooves against the cobblestones.

_Almost home._

“Let’s go, girl,” she urged the horse. “Just a few more miles and there will be a warm stable, fresh hay, and a nice cozy place for you.”

Isa bobbed her head, wintry puffs of air exiting her nose. With the stubbornness that Byleth loved about her, the horse picked up her pace, and trotted up the path.

Two armored guards stood at Fhirdiad’s gates. Their blue and black armor glittered beneath the lantern light. They visibly tensed as Byleth approached, and one stepped away from his post, raising his sword.

“Who comes?” he called.

Byleth smiled, and pulled her hood back. “Byleth Eisner Blaiddyd, Archbishop of the Church of Seiros, and Queen of Faerghus.”

The guards’ body language immediately relaxed. “Your Grace!” The guard with the sword lowered it. “Your Grace, we did not expect you without an escort.”

“I managed to leave them behind,” she said.

The guards looked at one another.

“That was a joke,” she said.

They laughed nervously.

Byleth wondered if she would ever get used to guards who took their duties a bit too seriously. Some of the guards at Garreg Mach were like that; perhaps here in the royal city, they were even more prone to tension and overreacting to small changes. She suspected they never laughed.

“If it pleases you,” she said, gathering her hood in her hands and pulling it over her hair, “I would very much like to reach the palace before it gets much colder out here. We have been riding for several hours, and could use a rest.”

The guards scrambled out of the way. “Your Grace, would you like us to escort you to the palace?”

“No, thank you.” _I made it this far on my own, I can make it a little ways more._

“Shall we send word ahead?”

“No, that isn’t necessary.” _I didn’t want to be fussed over at the monastery, and, by the goddess, I will_ not _be fussed over here._

“Your Grace, are you—”

“I am quite sure,” she said, and gave Isa a gentle kick. The horse trotted forward, with a disdainful snort directed at the guards. Byleth managed to hide a smile, and, leaving the bewildered men in her wake, she urged Isa up the cobblestone road to the palace.

She heard the evening bells toll nine times as they reached the first archway. She felt a shiver slide down her spine near the marketplace, recalling all too well last Spring, the festival, and the blade that nearly cost her the ones she loved. She’d endured nightmares for weeks, silently, alone, so lost in that haze of surviving the assassination attempt that she hadn’t quite realized how it impacted the one she left behind.

_Soon, beloved,_ she thought, as she guided Isa onto the side road into the palace stables. _Soon, I will see you, and this long winter will feel all the warmer._

* * *

The stable attendants had departed for the day, though Byleth had no trouble guiding Isa into the empty stall. Had the horse been human, she likely would have sighed, content to be home at last, cozy and warm. Byleth fill a small sack with feed and held it while Isa ate.

An enormous black horse peered at them curiously, and moved his head towards Isa once she was finished and settled. The other snorted in recognition, and the two animals touched their noses together.

Byleth placed Isa’s removed saddle on a nearby rack, along with her bridle and reins. She stroked Isa’s nose, and offered the black horse the same. “Hello, Eburos,” she said softly. “I’m glad to see you again. It’s been quite a while since we rode together.”

_And the last time I wasn’t conscious._

The horse rubbed his nose against her hand.

“Take care of each other, hm?” Byleth smiled, took her saddlebags, huddled into her cloak, and made her way along the short path into the palace. She found the stable-side door unlocked, pushed it open, and exited the cold evening air. She unbuckled her boots, toed them off near the door, and released the clasp on her cloak. She slid it from her shoulders, grateful for the warmth during her long ride, but equally glad to be rid of its weight. She hung the cloak over a hook, and took note of the heavy fabric hanging next to it.

The white and black furred mantle was bright as ever, the thick blue and black fabric rough and soft at the same time. She gathered a fistful of the material, brought it to her nose, closed her eyes as she breathed in: _horse, silver shavings, and sweat._ Another breath revealed the faintest hint of her favorite tea, a familiar scent of earthy leaves and almonds.

She smiled. _I missed you, too, beloved._

She released the cloak, and hiked up her skirts as she walked down the hallway. She felt warmer with every step, basking in the simple comfort of _home, safety, stone walls and all that lies within._

She walked by the open kitchen door, but there was no one present. She could smell the residual scent of dinner: chicken, potatoes, fried garlic and basil. It smelled heavenly, and she lingered for a moment. Pity the cook appeared to be gone for the evening; she might have asked him if there were leftovers. Instead, she walked into the kitchen, found a bowl of fresh fruit and selected a winter apple. She bit into it, tart juice spilling over her lips, and savored every crisp bite. When she was finished, she discarded the apple core, washed her hands in the basin, and resumed her walk through the palace.

She walked up the stairs, found a guard standing stiffly on the second floor. His eyes widened when he saw her. “Your Grace,” he stammered. “I, I mean, Your Majesty. I didn’t realize you were here. We would have greeted you properly.”

Byleth waved her hand. “No need for the ceremony. Tell me, have you seen my husband, by chance?”

“He is usually in the library at this time of night, Your Grace.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

She bowed her head to the guard, and climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Her first stop was her own rooms, to deposit her saddle bags, and change her clothes. The stone bath was filled with cool water, and she had no energy to warm it, no matter how fine a hot bath sounded after her long ride. Instead, she scrubbed her face clean, and changed her riding clothes to a simple black dress and sweater.

She looked in the mirror, and unpinned her hair from its braid, shook it out. She sighed, raked her fingers through it, pale green tresses falling around her face. She looked in the mirror, saw her green eyes and hair, not a trace of dark blue anywhere.

_That man in Verzhed nearly took everything from me._

_I took it back. My love and my friends made sure of that._

She smiled at her reflection. She walked barefoot out of the room, down the carpeted hall to the library. The guard was absent, and the doors were closed. She grasped the handle, twisted it, and gently pulled the door open.

She heard the crackling fire, and glanced towards it. She recognized the shadow slumped in a chair before it. She approached quietly, admired her husband’s sleeping face, listened to his even, calm breaths. Only in sleep did his features completely relax, slacken to something closer to the way she remembered him when they first met, the years and faint lines erased. She’d clung to that memory during the war, a time she’d been convinced she’d lost him.

_How lucky I was,_ she thought, studying his face, _to stand by your side, to watch you claw your way back to life, to hold your hand, to hold_ you _in the darkest moments. How grateful I am to call you mine._

Asleep, he looked his age, a young man in his prime, no longer hunted or haunted. His long hair hung loose, and his bangs draped over his blind right eye. He was not wearing his patch; she wondered if he’d removed it because he was alone, and felt no need to accommodate the fear others sometimes felt for him.

_They do not know you. They fear a memory._

She stood behind his chair, leaned forward, pressed her lips to his forehead.

His left eye fluttered, cracked open, and a pale blue iris peered at her. He blinked a few times, and murmured, “I dreamed of you last night, and the night before. It’s a good dream.” He closed his eye again.

Byleth smiled, kissed him a second time.

The eye opened, suspicious. “Byleth?”

“Hello, beloved,” she said.

His mouth curled into a smile. “Hello, beloved,” he echoed. “I didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

“You know how it is,” she said, leaning on the back of the chair. “Sometimes, I just cannot help myself, and I think _what would Dimitri do_?”

“Oh no.” Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, King of Faerghus, husband to Byleth, smiled mischievously. “And what, dear wife, does that mean?”

“It mean, dear husband, that I decided I’d had enough of waiting for others to sort out their concerns and paperwork.” She brushed his hair out of his blind right eye. “And I am perfectly capable of packing my bags and saddling a horse all on my own.”

“Ah,” he said knowingly. “So, you left without a note?”

“As I said, I thought about what you would do.”

“I don’t leave notes,” he confirmed.

Byleth smiled. “Then it seems we are perfectly matched.”

“We always have been,” he said, and sat up in his chair. He moved over as much as he was able, and Byleth sat with him, relaxed into his warmth. She rested her ear against his chest, listened to his familiar, steady heartbeat, the sound that brought her such calm, such peace of mind. He had a good heart, a brilliant soul, one shrouded by the shadows that haunted his mind, but she saw no sign of that darkness now, only the man she loved beyond words.

His fingers trailed through her hair. She half-closed her eyes, more comfortable by the second. _Home. I am truly, truly home._

“How was the road?” Dimitri asked.

“Snowy but clear. I’m certain Seteth will have a fit, but what is he going to do? Send his guards to drag me back?”

Dimitri’s laugh was a low rumble. “I would certainly like to see him try.” He draped his arm over her back. “There would be a small group of lions ready to argue with him.”

Byleth smiled. “I was tired of waiting for him to catch up to the reality that I was leaving for the winter. I told him that once the snow fell, I was staying here until Spring. He knows, and yet he still doesn’t seem to grasp that we need time together, outside of these arranged visits.”

“I’m so glad that my stubbornness has rubbed off on you.”

“I was plenty stubborn before I met you.”

Dimitri grinned. “I think I knew that the first time we fought together. You charged right on ahead into a group of bandits without a moment’s hesitation.”

“So, you’re saying that’s when you fell in love with me?” she teased.

“Hah! Byleth, for the first few months I knew you, I thought you were the most serious person I’d ever known. You never smiled, you never laughed; I was convinced you didn’t know how.” He chuckled. “That was around the same time I realized that Dedue actually had a sense of humor. You had us work on weeding the gardens together, and I said something silly about eating them.” He pitched his voice low, and did a passable imitation of his friend: “’Please do not eat the weeds.’”

Byleth giggled, and settled more comfortably against him. “It’s so good to be home.”

“Agreed.”

“You were already here, though.”

“I was,” he said, “but you weren’t.” He kissed her. “It will be good to know you are close by for the next few months.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

He brushed her hair out of her face. “And now you are here.” Dimitri kissed her again. “You must be tired from your ride.”

Byleth shook her head. “A bit, but if you want to talk, I’d rather do that.” She snuggled her head close to his chest. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“I can’t really think of anything. With winter, most of the nobility is gone, the court doesn’t meet…” He grinned, suddenly amused. “Oh, I know. His Most Regal Eminence of the Pisces Order is back in Fhirdiad.”

“The fishmonger from Spring?” Byleth groaned. “Oh, no, not again.”

“He insisted on an audience, and gave the cook a crate of the biggest salmon I have ever seen in my life.”

“Salmon.”

“Salmon this big, I swear.” Dimitri held his hands about three feet apart.

Byleth rolled her eyes. “Someday, I’ll have to meet this fellow. He cannot possibly be real.”

Dimitri snorted. “Byleth, I am incapable of imagining anything this absurd. I will never need an official court jester, not so long as that man is around.”

“Well, in that case, does that mean we’ll have salmon for dinner this week?”

“I think Dedue was already plotting what to do with it during our little reunion banquet with our friends.”

“Well,” Byleth said brightly, “now I _am_ excited for salmon.”

She settled in, delighted in the change that came over Dimitri’s face when he laughed. Smile broad, his eye sparkling with humor, he regaled her with the story of the bizarre fishmonger who took himself far, far too seriously.

Laughing so easily with him confirmed it: she was truly _home_.

_Here’s to the rest of winter being calm, relaxed, and easy._

_It’s so good to be home._

* * *

Waking up alone was familiar to both Byleth and Dimitri. Their separate lives required such sacrifices, as dictated by the terms of their respective roles, but that did not make it any easier to go to bed and wake up alone. Byleth at least had a large ginger cat at Garreg Mach to keep her warm and comfortable when she slept, a fluffy beast who demanded pets and friendly words in exchange for a soft place to sleep.

Dimitri had collected several dense and fluffy pillows, and arranged them in a wall in the bed, anything to replicate the comforting weight of another person. When Byleth was absent, he often found himself falling asleep in the library or in her rooms, surrounded by her presence. It was enough to push back on his nightmares, most nights, though nothing kept the darkness at bay like having her physically present.

Having her in his arms left him little need of his small fabric fortress. Most of the pillows found their way to the floor, tossed near the fireplace, to be rearranged into cozy seating arrangements later. Their clothes were haphazardly tossed in similar fashion.

Dimitri was entirely used to the cold winter winds of Faerghus. Byleth had yet to grow accustomed to them, though she preferred the cool air to the blistering heat of summer. As it was, Dimitri was plenty warm, her own personal brazier, and she snuggled close to him as they woke.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and kissed her forehead. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” she echoed. “Sleep well?”

He nodded. “I find myself reluctant to move.”

“Well, you are king. I hear it’s a perk of the job: you don’t have to get up if you don’t want to.”

He chuckled. “Are you encouraging me to avoid my duties?”

“What duties? It’s winter.” She smiled at him. “There shouldn’t be a single noble in the city who actually _needs_ your attention.”

“That is true.” He grinned, and nuzzled her throat. “I can think of a certain noble lady who _might_ need my attention, however…”

She couldn’t help teasing him. “Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, are you admitting that you have a mistress? The scandal.”

“Yes,” he said dryly, “such a scandal. My mistress happens to be the archbishop of the Church of Seiros. Perhaps you’re familiar with her?”

“Oh, well, in that case.” Byleth rested her arms on his chest, pinning him down.

Dimitri laughed, and slid his fingers through her hair. “Is this what I get to look forward to all winter?”

“You are _extremely_ warm, Your Majesty. I cannot seem to get enough of you.” She laid her chin on her arms, looked at him, her gaze softening. “And there was a time, not so long ago, that I was very cold.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “I didn’t know I’d miss your warmth so much when I couldn’t feel my own.” She blinked. “Do you understand?”

He did. “We have both known loss, and we managed to turn it into love.”

She reached one of her hands out, brushed his hair out of his face. “I know who I am without you,” she said.

“And I know what I am without you.” His pale blue eye sparkled. “I do not intend to lose you again, beloved.”

She laid her head on his chest, listened to his steady heartbeat. “We must learn to talk of love without also talking about all the loss.”

“Without loss, I would never have known you, my love.”

She smiled sadly, because he was right. She closed her eyes, savored the sound of his heart. “One day,” she said, “I want to travel with you. I want us to leave this place behind, just for a little while.”

“One day,” he agreed. “One day, we will live our lives together, always.”

“We must save one adventure, just for us.”

“There’s no one I’d rather have an adventure with.” Dimitri pulled her close, kissed her. “Though perhaps we should brave the adventure of breakfast before we start planning that singular adventure.”

She laughed, and adored him all the more when he smiled.

_One day, we will be healed and whole, and the world will be as it should. On that day, beloved, we will be completely free of the darkness. Even if it brought us together, it must never rule us again._


	2. Chapter 2

Dedue sensed a change in the palace when he stepped out of his rooms. There was a lightness in the air, a sense of peace. He looked around the third-floor hallways, wondering what might have brought about the difference in atmosphere. He straightened his jacket, and walked to the ascending stairs.

He reached the fourth-floor, and heard soft conversation. He took several steps down the hall, following the sound, and saw the familiar sight of his dearest friends. Dimitri and Byleth stood near a window, the faint winter sunlight streaming over them, hands clasped.

Dedue smiled, and said, “Good morning, Your Majesties.”

Byleth turned to him, and her pale green eyes lit up with joy. “Dedue!” She released Dimitri’s hand, and Dedue was not quite prepared for her hug. She was far smaller than he, but she packed quite a punch with her hugs. He returned the embrace, grateful to see her, to know she was home and safe, and even more pleased to see the relaxed, easy smile on Dimitri’s face.

Byleth released him, and said, “I heard something about salmon.”

Dedue could not help rolling his eyes. “Ah, yes, His Eminence of the Pisces Order left a gift.”

“I’m very curious to see what you do with it.”

“I have a few ideas,” Dedue said. He bowed his head to Dimitri. “Did you meet Her Grace at the gates? I confess, I did not hear you leave this morning. I apologize for not paying better attention.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dimitri said. He looped an arm around Byleth’s shoulders. “My wife, it turns out, is as resourceful as I am.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning Seteth is likely pacing holes in the carpet.”

Dedue frowned, and looked at Byleth.

“I arrived very late last night,” she explained. “Isa and I were riding all day.”

“That is quite the distance.”

“I left Garreg Mach three days ago,” she assured Dedue. “I got tired of waiting for Seteth to assign me a guard – that I didn’t want, mind you – and I was not about to let them stuff me in a carriage for the ride here.”

“Confined spaces are unpleasant,” Dedue agreed. He folded his hands behind his back. “I have not yet seen cook this morning. Shall I inquire about breakfast?”

“Let’s go together,” Byleth said. “I want to say hello.”

They chatted comfortably as they descended the stairs.

“When I saw Ashe and Ingrid yesterday, they were quite excited about the frozen river,” Dedue said. “Ingrid mentioned something about skating?”

Dimitri smiled wistfully. “I haven’t done that since I was a child.”

“I don’t believe I ever have.”

“We should change that. Byleth, have you ever skated?”

“Not that I remember. My father like snowballs and building small forts, but not skating.” She shook her head. “I remember being a small child and he showed me how to shape and throw snowballs. He turned me loose on a group he’d hired on to, and I drove them mad.” She smiled smugly. “I hit all my targets.”

“My father did the same, only I wasn’t allowed to distract the guards,” Dimitri said. “I think I was three or four, the first time he and I had a snowball fight.”

“Dare I ask?” Dedue wondered.

“I remember it was great fun,” Dimitri said, grinning. “We chased one another around the courtyard, throwing snowballs, making a mess of ourselves. It’s one of the best memories I have.”

Byleth beamed. “We should have a snowball fight.”

“Aren’t we a bit old for that?” Dimitri teased.

“You’ll change your mind,” she said in a sing-song voice.

Dedue sighed. “You are clearly both fatigued from hunger. Come, let’s see what cook has devised for breakfast.”

They walked to the kitchen, and found the cook preparing tea. The man’s face lit up when he saw them. “Your Majesties, and Master Dedue! Good morning.” He looked to Byleth. “Your Grace, I didn’t hear you come in this morning.”

“I arrived last night,” she told him.

The cook winced. “If I’d known, I would have left some dinner for you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She smiled. “I’m glad to see you.”

“It is good to have you back, Your Grace. Now then, I suspect you are all here seeking breakfast. Well, I have fresh bread, there are eggs, tomatoes, herbs, and spinach. Master Dedue, that greenhouse was a brilliant idea. It’s so lovely to have good ingredients year-round.”

Byleth walked over to the kettle. “Well, here’s one thing I can handle,” she said, and plucked cups and loose tea from the cabinet.

The cook laughed. “I’ve seen you cook, Your Grace. You and Master Dedue are almost as good as I am.”

Dedue folded his arms. “Clearly, I must study your techniques more.”

“You know all of my techniques, you just put your own spin on it. You must show me how to make that seasoned rice. It’s positively delightful.”

“If I could get the spice flower to grow in the greenhouse, I would be happy to.” Dedue shrugged. “A task for spring, I think.”

The cook smiled, and looked to Dimitri. “Requests for breakfast, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri shook his head. “I trust my friends.”

The cook chuckled. “To trust one’s friends with food is a very risky endeavor.”

Dimitri looked from Byleth to Dedue, and simply said, “I trust no one more than these two.”

The cook heard how serious he was. He nodded. “Very good. In that case, I will prepare something simple and have it brought up. Eggs and toast, or warm grains with fruit? Will you be in the library or the dining hall?”

“The library,” Dimitri replied. “The dining hall will need preparation for other matters.”

The cook blinked. “Ah!” he said. “Your winter reunion. So _that’s_ what Mistress Annette was prowling around yesterday for. I wondered why she was so insistent about sweets.”

“Annette’s in Fhirdiad?” Byleth asked. She hadn’t seen her friend in months.

“I believe she arrived two weeks ago. She’s been in the former empire,” Dimitri said. “Gilbert sent word ahead. You know how he is.”

“Yes, yes, I do. Someday, we’ll break his iron walls.”

“I’ve been trying for years, dear wife. If I can’t do it, no one can.” Dimitri grinned. “Then again, why would I want to? It’s too much fun to watch him squirm when you and I spar.”

Dedue snorted.

“What?”

“As I recall, the first time you and Her Grace sparred, you did not see eye to eye on things.”

“We didn’t?” Dimitri shrugged. “Funny, I remember it differently.”

“I am not sure I want to know how you remember it.”

Dimitri shrugged a shoulder. “I remember it as the moment I knew I was going to marry her.”

Byleth rolled her eyes. “That is _not_ what happened.”

Dedue folded his arms. “I agree. There was more arguing, which, last I checked, is not how Fódlians propose marriage. That is a far quieter thing.”

“See, now that part _did_ happen,” Byleth said. She smirked at Dimitri. “And we made fools of ourselves proposing to each other at the same time.”

“I suppose I should be grateful you did not propose over crossed swords,” Dedue said.

“Some people argue with words,” Dimitri said, and gave Byleth a cheeky grin. “The professor and I started out that way, and later found that blades were more honest.”

“All right,” Byleth said, holding up her hands. “If we can manage to _not_ talk about this ever again, I will be forever grateful.”

“Dear professor, are you saying you’re not interested in reliving the memory of our first sparring match?” Dimitri teased.

“No, I am not interested in reliving the memory of sparring with an insane version of you.”

Dimitri grasped her around the waist. “What about a sane version of me?”

Byleth gave him a gentle shove. Her expression quickly changed, though, as though she was seriously considering taking him up on the offer.

Dedue sighed.

Chuckling, the cook raised a long-handled wooden spoon in mock-threat. “All right, you three, to the library. I’ll have breakfast put together and sent up. Master Dedue, I trust you can keep Their Majesties in line for a bit longer? Maybe encourage them _not_ to spar with one another?”

“I promise nothing,” Dedue said, and clapped his hands together. “Your Majesty, Your Grace, would you care to join me in the library?”

They gave him enormous, mischievous grins.

“Cook,” Dedue said, “please do not be angry, but I fear breakfast might be delayed somewhat.”

The cook gestured with his spoon again. “Nonsense. Vegetables and eggs for His Majesty, warm grains and sautéed apples for Her Grace and Master Dedue.” He adjusted his apron. “Give me a half hour, and I’ll have it ready.”

“I suppose we’ll have to reschedule our sparring,” Byleth said.

Dimitri smiled. “That’s fine. We have all winter.”

Dedue could not help smiling as he watched his friends join hands and stroll out of the kitchen. He asked the cook to have the tea service sent up along with breakfast, and the man nodded, shooing him out the door. Dedue followed Dimitri and Byleth, and noticed, again, the warm change throughout the palace, the comfort and calm.

_It is because they are together, and will remain so, for the duration of the season. All is as it should be. Home, as they say, is where the heart is._

In the library, he smiled fondly at his friends. They returned the smiles, Byleth’s warm and welcoming, and Dimitri’s satisfied and proud. They were, Dedue thought, the smiles of the ones he considered his family.

_They have never tried to, and never will, replace the ones I lost. However, what I have found in this place, with these two in particular, is all I ever wished. They are more than friends to me, and I will defend them for as long as I am able. They are my home._

_My heart belongs here._


	3. Chapter 3

After breakfast, they retreated to their rooms, dressed in warmer clothes, and decided to explore the city together. Byleth braided her hair, and pulled a warm blue and black cloak over her winter skirts and sweater. She met Dimitri and Dedue near the stable doors, both dressed in warm wool trousers and jackets. Once they pulled their boots on, they exited onto the snowy palace grounds.

Byleth stopped into the stables, and gave Isa and Eburos their morning greetings. The stable attendants had draped warm blankets over both horses, and the animals were the picture of contentment.

“Dedue, where is Fern?” Byleth called as she rejoined them.

“She is stabled with the other war horses. She requires more room to move around than those two.” Dedue scuffed his boot through the snow. “I may eventually grow used to this weather.”

“You’re not yet?”

“Not like this.” Dedue shook his head. “I am used to traces of snow, not _this._ ” He gestured to the snow drifts and haphazard piles that servants had moved away from the paths. “You rode all the way from Garreg Mach in this weather, Your Grace?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she said. “The wind was a bit much, but once we got ahead of it, Isa had no trouble. The roads we stuck to were mostly clear, probably because of the merchant caravans. They don’t stop, no matter the season. The worst part was the last few hours before we got here.”

“Why was that?”

“The anticipation of being so close to home, and yet so far.”

Dimitri clutched Byleth’s hand. He kissed her cheek, and murmured, “I hope it was worth it.”

“ _You_ are worth it,” she responded.

Dedue smiled, pleased by their open affection with one another. “Would you prefer to ride or walk?”

“Walk,” they said in unison.

Dedue chuckled. He’d expected no different. “Then let us be off.”

They walked down the cobble-stone paths to the city. The citizenry was sparse, the few people out and out dressed in heavy wool cloaks and clothes, struggling to keep their balance when they stepped in a slippery spot. Two gilded carriages inched by them, drawn by timid horses. A trembling hand tugged a curtain back from a window, and Byleth saw a pale face stare at them, before she heard a muffled, short command, likely telling the driver to pick up the pace.

Dimitri shook his head and snorted softly. “Former Alliance houses. They ride through Fhirdiad as fast as they can.”

“A risky act in winter,” Dedue remarked.

“I thought you and Claude had a peace treaty,” Byleth said. “Or at least an agreement.”

“We do.”

“The Alliance is dissolved, so what are they worried about, exactly?”

Dimitri shrugged. “A few of them think I want revenge, since they abandoned us after Cornelia took over. When we killed her and took it back, they stayed loyal to Claude. Now, they think I’m just biding my time, waiting to seize their lands and punish them for turning on us during the war.” He shook his head. “Whatever Claude is planning, whatever schemes his mind devises, his former allies have nothing to fear from me.” He adjusted his grip on Byleth’s hand. “We have a united country, at last, and after everything we went through to get it, I’m not interested in starting another war.”

“Von Aufrech was,” Byleth said uncomfortably, and hugged his arm. The scar on her back no longer burned, but the memory always would. She’d seen enough death in that short period of time, had undone all of it, but the scars remained.

“He’s dead and I would kill him again if I could,” Dimitri spat. There was enough venom in his voice to turn Dedue’s head.

Byleth tightened her hold on Dimitri’s arm. His scars ran deep, into the corners of his mind and soul. They shared mirroring wounds from that day in Spring, but it sometimes seemed like his had never truly stopped bleeding.

Dimitri took a deep breath. “He’s dead,” he repeated, his voice softer. “He had no intention except to kill you and me, which would have likely started another war. We survived, our friends survived, and we are still here, while he rots. I think his failure has sent the strongest possible message: the Holy Kingdom doesn’t start wars, but we finish them.”

Dedue wrapped a hand around Dimitri’s shoulder.

Dimitri sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “You two know me better than anyone. You know what I’ll do to keep this peace we’ve made.”

“We do,” Dedue said. “Let us save such talk for when the three of us are alone.”

“Right.” Dimitri rolled his shoulders, shook his long hair out of his face. “You’re right.” He smiled at them. “What would I do without you two?”

“Another conversation best saved for a different time and place,” Dedue suggested.

Dimitri nodded. He squeezed Byleth’s hand, and rested his other atop Dedue’s.

The three of them stood there for a moment, safe, secure in one another’s company.

Dimitri finally cleared his throat. “Well, that’s enough of that. Come on. Let’s see what Fhirdiad has to offer us today.”

* * *

They walked through the arched pathways and reached the central marketplace. Dimitri and Byleth let out dual tense breaths as they crossed the space where the assassin, Von Aufrech, had stabbed them before Dimitri robbed him of his last breath. Dedue watched them carefully, but moving over the space seemed to drain the tension away.

The chill winter air brought pink roses to their cheeks, and they saw more people gathered in the market. Small children chased one another, a few guards chatted with some pretty noble girls, and the vendors greeted one another like old friends. A small boy nearly slipped as he chased his friend, and Dedue reached out to catch his arm to keep him from falling.

The boy’s grey eyes went wide.

Dedue raised his hand. “Are you all right?”

“Y-yes, sir,” the boy said nervously. His eyes drifted over to Dimitri, and then to Byleth. “Your Grace!” he squealed. “You’re back!”

It took Byleth a moment to recognize him as the boy she’d met during the Spring festival, the one who’d hugged her and asked for a blessing. She smiled, and crouched in front of him. “Hello,” she said. “Yes, I’m back.”

The boy beamed. “My mother told me you might not come back after what happened. She said you were hurt. Are you better now? I’m so glad to see you.” He reached out and tugged on her hand. “Will you come play with us, Your Grace? Will you? My friends and I, we’re going to build a fort!”

She laughed and stood up. “I would love to, but I’m with my friends right now. Maybe another day.”

“Your friends?” The boy looked at Dimitri and Dedue.

Dimitri smiled, and bowed. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance. My name is Dimitri.” He gestured to Dedue. “This is my friend, Dedue.”

The boy stared, and something seemed to register behind his eyes. He straightened his shoulders, and said, very softly, “You’re our King, aren’t you?”

Dimitri nodded.

The boy looked at Byleth. “I guess a Queen has to have a King, doesn’t she?”

Dimitri smiled. “In this case, my young friend, this King is very lucky to have Her Grace as a Queen.”

The boy smiled, revealing one missing tooth. “You’re not scary at all,” the boy proclaimed. “Will you come play with us on another day, Your Majesty?”

Dimitri grinned. “I think that would be quite an adventure.” He nudged Dedue. “What do you think?”

Dedue smiled.

The boy clapped his hands. “I’ll tell the others! My mother says we’re in for more snow in the next few days. If you play with us, then we can build an extra big fort!” He looked at Byleth. “Can I hug you, Your Grace?”

She laughed, and opened her arms. The boy threw himself at her, hugged her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re back,” he said again, before he released her, waved enthusiastically to Dimitri and Dedue, and scampered off to join his friends. The group of children all giggled and shrieked before they darted along the snowy streets to play hide and seek.

Byleth looked at her friends. Dedue looked pleasantly surprised at the encounter. Dimitri draped his arm across Byleth’s shoulders, and said, “I’ve just had a brilliant idea.”

“What’s that?”

“It involves the three of us, Ingrid, Ashe, Annette, Mercedes, Sylvain, and Felix.” He grinned wickedly. “Especially Felix.”

“Oh, dear. I’ve seen that look before,” Byleth said. “Only it was on Claude’s face, not yours.”

Dimitri shrugged. “Claude was my friend, once, you know. I did get up to _some_ mischief when I was younger.”

Dedue snorted.

“It was always after I managed to convince you to go to bed.”

“That’s what you thought.” Dedue rubbed his nose. “You’ve never been as stealthy as you think you are.”

Dimitri looked smug. “I managed to sneak past you last summer.”

“I have not forgotten, and I have not lost sight of you since.”

“He’s on to me, beloved.”

Byleth laughed. “Well, I’m slightly concerned about this scheme of yours, but I’m also curious. And why does it ‘especially’ involve Felix?”

Dimitri’s grin grew wider. “Because there’s nothing he hates more than frivolity and fun, and I haven’t thrown a snowball at him since we were children.”

“Oh, this I have to see.” Byleth looked at Dedue. “Whatever do you think we’re in for, Dedue?”

Dedue shook his head. “I agree with you. I need to see this snowball fight for myself.”

Dimitri laughed. “Ingrid’s the one you’ll have to watch out for, though, both of you. She has excellent aim, and if Ashe has been teaching her archery, she’ll be even more dangerous.”

They heard the children giggling as hide and seek turned into tag. The grey-eyed boy waved as he ran in front of them again, keeping his balance as he darted across the slippery courtyard. Other children ran after him, all cheering and laughing, their high spirits infectious, powerful enough to push away any gloominess that the marketplace might bring to Dimitri’s mind.

He gave Byleth a one-armed hug. “I’m glad you’re back, too, beloved,” he murmured, and kissed her hair.

* * *

They continued their walk through Fhirdiad’s streets, greeting people, looking out for any familiar faces. The scent of fresh pastries and sweets wafted along the air, and Byleth recognized the pastry shop that Annette and Mercedes liked so much. In the wintry mid-day air, the smell was heavenly, warm and welcoming.

“Shall we pick up something sweet for later?” Byleth asked.

“It smells incredible,” Dimitri said. “I still don’t have much of a taste for sweets, but I do like the smell. What do you think, Dedue?”

Dedue nodded. “If there are apple tarts, the cook would be thrilled. He’s been attempting to recreate the recipe, but they are always sold out by the time he gets here.”

Byleth smiled. “Well, why don’t you two wait here? I’ll stop in and get treats.”

Before they could say anything, she ducked into the bakery, shook the snow off her skirts. The bakery was filled with people, and she instinctively looked for anyone she knew. She did not see Annette, though she suspected her friend had already become a daily customer. The sweets in Garreg Mach weren’t quite up to Annette’s high standards, even if she still ate them enthusiastically, and insisted they had improved during Mercedes’s time at the monastery. Cleric, bishop, healer, and master of the sweet baked treats, that was Mercedes.

Byleth hadn’t seen much of Mercedes since the incident in the fall. After those first few days of healing, Byleth hadn’t wanted to see anyone who wasn’t Dimitri, and eventually he’d been forced to return to Fhirdiad, regardless of how badly he wanted to stay at Garreg Mach. Byleth took a breath of the warm, sweet air, and thought of how good it felt to be back _home_ , with the people she loved, in a place where she belonged.

She inspected the bakery case, found sweet stuffed buns, tarts, spiced apple packets and pies, and an exquisite plum cake. When it was her turn at the counter, the baker cheerfully welcomed her. “Hello, Your Grace!”

“Hello,” Byleth said, smiling.

“It’s so good to see you. Quite the winter we’re having, hm?”

“It is. The children seem to be having a good time in it.”

The baker laughed. “Yes, yes, they are. I think my grandson is out among them. Now, then, what can I get for you?”

Byleth ordered an apple tart – they had one left, and she didn’t want to disappoint the cook – a chocolate pastry, an apple bun, and a spiced pumpkin bun. The baker placed the treats in a box, Byleth paid, and bid everyone a good day. She stepped out into the cold, shivering at the loss of the warm, comforting heat.

“It seems you were successful,” Dedue said.

“I was, and I found an apple tart.”

“Cook will be thrilled. Shall we start back?”

The walk to the palace was a bit livelier. Byleth laughed as Dimitri and Dedue discussed the absurd fishmonger who seemed to amuse Dimitri so much, while Dedue debated what he might do with some of the large salmon. “Spiced fish is always good,” he said. “The trick is roasting it through without burning the spices.”

“Do you think cook has the spices you’ll need?” Byleth wondered. She’d missed Dedue’s cooking at Garreg Mach; the dining hall cooks rarely made the effort to deviate from familiar Fódlian dishes.

“Since I started teaching Ashe some of my family’s dishes, I’ve taken the liberty of restocking the palace’s spice cupboard. To account for some of them, there is a greenhouse on the grounds now. Fresh herbs are preferable, if you can get them.” Dedue’s eyes sparkled. “It is quite an adventure to cook in this country. It requires creativity and a receptive audience.”

Dimitri sighed. “He just says that because he knows I like his cooking.”

Dedue chuckled. “That you can’t quite taste how spicy the food is tells me that you actually enjoy it.”

“I do like the smell.” Dimitri grinned. “If you use the same blend you used on that chicken you roasted a few weeks ago, I can’t promise to share.”

Byleth said, “Well, now I’m _very_ curious.”

“I assure you, Your Grace, that, whatever I decide, the salmon will be delicious.” Dedue smiled confidently. “You and I cooked together quite a few times during our time at the monastery. You always seemed to enjoy it.”

“It helped to have a capable assistant,” she teased.

“Ah, and here I thought you were _my_ assistant.” Dedue nodded. “Yes, that settles it. Your Grace, you will need to assist me. I insist on it.”

“I think I can handle that.”

“I think I’ll watch,” Dimitri said. “It’s always more entertaining that way.”

“Well, dear husband, so long as you’re entertained.”

“How could I ever be bored with you two in my life?” Dimitri grinned. “Besides, it’s been almost a year since I’ve seen you cook together.”

“Has it been that long?” Dedue mused. “Your Grace, we must make up for lost time.”

Byleth sighed. “Dimitri wants to spar with me, and you want me to cook with you. How will I ever make the time?”

“I seem to recall you being one of the most time efficient people I’ve ever met,” Dimitri laughed. “You used to run from place to place on your day off, if you weren’t dragging us into the field to test our mettle.”

“None of you ever argued with me.”

“Well, Dedue and I certainly never did.”

Byleth laughed. “Well, if I’m only dividing my time between you two, I think I can manage.”

Their conversation and laughter echoed off the courtyard walls as they returned to the palace.


	4. Chapter 4

They sat in the library the following morning, the remains of breakfast dotting their plates, and mugs of hot tea between their hands. Dedue announced that he had decided what to do with the salmon: it would be roasted with a fragrant paste of garlic, oil, salt, pepper, and plenty of paprika. With a serious expression, he turned to Byleth. “I shall require your deft knife skills and patience to assist.”

Equally serious, she nodded. “I shall endeavor not to disappoint, Master Molinaro.”

Dimitri laughed so hard he had to put his tea cup down.

“This is matter to be taken with the utmost care, Your Majesty,” Dedue continued, mock-serious. “The fish—”

“Stop,” Dimitri pleaded, holding up a hand as he struggled to stop laughing. “I beg you. One more word about fish and I’ll name _you_ a member of the Pisces Order, and you can negotiate with His Eminence the next time he shows up.”

Dedue scoffed. “Do you see what I put up with, Your Grace?”

Byleth smiled. “I suppose there are worse threats he could make.”

“There are.” Dedue rubbed at his chin. “No, Your Majesty, I must insist that you continue dealing with His Eminence. The Pisces Order is a bit… slippery… for my preferred negotiating tactics.”

Dimitri stared at him, mouth agape.

Dedue looked at Byleth. “What? I thought that was rather good.”

“Alois would be proud,” she said, patting his arm.

Dimitri snickered.

Deude sighed. “I think that might be all the fun I can tolerate for one morning.” He stood up, and began stacking plates.

“Here, let me help.” Byleth gathered the tea pot and empty cups.

Dimitri picked up the serving bowl that had held their breakfast porridge and fruit, and they carried the dishes down to the kitchen. A servant took the dirty plates and cups, while the cook took the serving bowl. “It looks like there are some leftovers,” he said cheerfully. “They’ll make a tasty snack later, I’m sure.”

They nodded.

“Also, I believe I heard voices in the entry hall a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you, cook,” Dimitri said. He gestured. “Shall we investigate?”

He walked with Dedue and Byleth to the entry hall, where they found Sylvain rubbing his gloved hands together and blowing into them. He wore a fur-lined coat, and his wind-reddened cheeks nearly matched his coppery hair. He grinned widely when he saw them. “Hello!” he said. “Felix got a messenger bird yesterday with a note about Her Grace arriving. I rode ahead, because he had some paperwork or something to finish. I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me. Anyway, I’m here now.” He extended a hand to Byleth. “Your Grace, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the country.”

“Flirt,” she said.

“I come by it honestly, I swear.” Sylvain kissed her hand gallantly, and stood up straighter. “All right, that’s enough of that. If I make any more attempts at being ‘noble,’ Felix’ll never let me hear the end of it.” He shrugged. “He knows me too well.” He looked at Dedue. “You might have to teach me some of your tricks, Dedue. You know, the ones where you keep your face so still that no one can know what you’re thinking.”

Dedue nodded stoically.

“Right, like that.”

Byleth laughed. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you, Your Grace. The last time I saw you, we’d all had a very, very long day.” Sylvain folded his arms behind his head. “So, I hear we’re plotting a reunion.”

“Plotting is a strong word,” Dimitri said, “but yes, yes, we are.” He gestured. “Come on, Sylvain. Take your coat off and join us.”

“I’ll go talk to cook and get more tea,” Byleth said.

“Let me help,” Sylvain said eagerly. “The library, right?”

“That’s right,” Dimitri said.

“Fantastic. Come on, Your Grace, let’s get the tea stuff.”

Byleth laughed. “How can I refuse that level of enthusiasm?”

“I’m so glad you’ve never changed, Sylvain,” Dimitri said, taking his friend’s coat. “Come on, Dedue. Let’s leave this by the fire and go build a fresh one upstairs.”

“I’ll get some more wood and meet you.”

They went their separate ways.

Byleth and Sylvain headed to the kitchen, where the cook made a great show of filling a few larger tea pots with fresh hot water. Byleth picked up a few ceramic jars of tea and several tea balls, while Sylvain gathered clean cups onto a tray. “We might need two trips,” he said.

She agreed.

“Do you still drink that earthy tea, Your Grace? Felix likes that blend. He says it smells like death, but it tastes good.”

She laughed. “I do. It’s in the red jar.”

“Red jar, all right, so that’s your death tea. Dimitri still likes chamomile, doesn’t he? Mint, maybe?”

“Chamomile, yellow jar; mint, green jar.”

Sylvain shook his head. “Makes sense. He’s so tense, it figures he’d prefer a relaxing tea.”

“Dedue likes spiced tea.”

“Hey, me, too. Does he like the stuff with cinnamon and that star spice in it?”

Byleth picked up a brown ceramic jar. She lifted the small lid and sniffed the contents. “That would be this?” She offered it to Sylvain, who took a whiff, and smiled.

“That’s the one.”

“Don’t forget that almond tea you like, Your Grace,” the cook called. “I got a fresh bag of it just a few days ago.”

She thanked the man and picked up a white jar. She smelled the tea and sighed contentedly. “You’re right, Sylvain. I love that other tea, but this one is my favorite.” She offered him the jar, and his face lit up as he smelled it.

“Oh, that smells like the almond cookies Mercedes used to make when we were students. Does she still make them when she’s at the monastery now?”

“Not often, but you’re right, they smell a lot alike.”

“I assume you’re talking about tea and not about Dimitri and Dedue?” Felix’s dry voice inquired behind them.

Byleth rolled her eyes. “That’s my husband and his best man you’re talking about.”

“True,” Felix said. “I used to mistake them for animals, or some such nonsense.”

“Hey, come on, don’t be like that,” Sylvain scolded. “Here, grab a third tray. We don’t have enough hands between us.”

Felix paused beside Byleth and planted a friendly kiss on her cheek. “How is the lucky bastard?” he murmured. “I haven’t been able to keep as close an eye on him as I’d like lately. Apologies for that.”

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” she told him, her voice equally soft. “Leave me to worry about him.”

“I’ll always worry about him and you, Byleth. It’s in my nature.” Felix looked at Sylvain. “Good to see you got here in one piece. The roads are barely cleared to the east.”

Byleth smiled when Sylvain rested a hand on Felix’s shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze. “I’m getting more confident with winter riding,” Sylvain said. “Give me a few more weeks, and I can take on any terrain.”

“A few more weeks and we won’t have any snow left for you to practice on.”

“Hey, don’t tempt spring, Felix, we need a nice long winter. We’ve earned it.” Sylvain grinned. “Besides, we’re planning a reunion for the house, and I have a great idea for us.”

“’Us?’” Felix and Byleth echoed together.

“Wait until we get upstairs. Felix, grab that third tray. Your Grace, do you have everything? Fantastic. Lead on.”

“Make sure you keep your eyes up, Sylvain,” Felix said as he picked up the tray of cups.

Sylvain gave him the fiercest glare Byleth had ever seen.

“Lead on,” Felix said innocently. “You know the way to the library. We’ll be right behind you.”

Byleth glanced at her friend, who smirked, clearly pleased with himself. “You’re an absolute devil, Felix,” she whispered to him.

“Some people spar to win one another’s affection,” he said. “Sylvain refuses to duel with me, so I am forced to play his little games.”

She laughed. “Be gentle with him, Felix. He might turn the tables on you, one day.”

“Did I tell you I gave him a key to the manor?”

“You did not.”

“Well, now I’ve said it.” Felix’s smirk softened to a genuine smile. “So, perhaps he already did.”

Byleth stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad to see you, my dear friend.”

“Stay for the long winter, won’t you, Your Grace?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

* * *

They spent the rest of the morning drinking tea, laughing, and catching up.

As Byleth held her warm tea cup, she basked in the warmth of her friendship with these young men. She’d seen them grow from near-children to soldiers in a war that threatened their homeland and their lives, counseled them through victories, losses, heartaches, and despair. She’d taught them, learned from them, and become a better person because of them.

They were in their element here, laughing, talking, fully relaxed and comfortable in the home country they’d fought so hard to hold on to. Dimitri and Felix offered good-natured jabs at one another’s fighting skills, while Sylvain shook his head at their display; Dedue simply shrugged when prompted for his opinion on who was the better fighter. “Oh, come on, answer the question,” Felix goaded. “Who’s better?”

“Her Grace.”

“That wasn’t an option.” Felix raised a finger. “I still want a re-match, Byleth. You owe me that much.”

“A re-match? From when?”

“At least two years’ back now. Right when we were in the thick of it. You owe me a re-match.” Felix grinned. “I’ve gotten better, I’ll have you know.”

“Be careful, Felix,” Dimitri teased, “my wife practices with the swords in the palace training room.”

“You mean those things you sharpen into razors?” Felix shook his head. “There’s one habit you’ll never break.”

“Always be prepared.”

“Always be prepared to _fillet_ a man.”

Dimitri smirked.

Felix rolled his eyes dramatically. “Byleth, how do you put up with this?”

She shrugged.

“She’s been fooled into thinking I have good qualities,” Dimitri joked.

Felix laughed. “Well, you’ll never convince me.”

“Hey, speaking of good qualities,” Sylvain chimed in, “there’s something we have to talk about, since we’re all here.” He stood up, rested his hands on the table. “So, I’ve had this idea brewing for months, now, that Felix and I would go on a long hunting trip during winter. We haven’t done it since we were students, and it’s always a good way to spend time with your friends. With everything that happened this past year, we didn’t really get a chance to plan it out as much as I would’ve like, but, now that the five of us are in a room together, I wanted to formally say it: Your Majesties and Dedue, would you like to join Felix and me for a hunting trip after the new moon?”

Dimitri sat up straighter in his chair.

Byleth tilted her head, curious.

Dedue folded his arms, listening.

“Hear me out,” Sylvain said, “Dimitri, your family had that winter estate down south, right?”

“They did. Rodrigue had the keys for the longest time. I’m not sure the state of the place.”

“I have them,” Felix said quickly. “The place is clean and ready for residents.”

“When did you do that?”

“After our little adventure a few weeks back. You stayed behind at Garreg Mach while we came back here, and I put a few servants to work cleaning the place, top to bottom. It wasn’t in too bad of shape, according to the steward. Even the stables are ready for us.”

“There are no matters of state to attend to,” Dedue said casually. “Apart from His Eminence, there are no nobles in need of your attention.”

“’His Eminence?’” Sylvain wondered.

“Don’t ask,” Byleth said.

“Right, anyway.” Sylvain smiled. “I figured it’s about time that we celebrated the end of the war and our new lives in the best way we know how: a winter hunting trip. Besides, we also need to celebrate Her Grace joining us for the entire season, and what better way than to show her and Dedue the kind of trip we used to take when we were growing up?”

“If the estate is clean, then I don’t see any reason we couldn’t,” Dimitri said, nodding. He looked at Byleth. “I was hoping we could take time to see the estate anyway, and it would be better with friends.”

“Our hunting trips aren’t short,” Felix said proudly. “I like to take my time, and so does Dimitri. Sylvain’s less patient, but I suspect he can be brought around with some better influences.”

“I haven’t been on a formal hunting trip before,” Dedue said.

“Oh, it’s hardly formal.” Sylvain waved his hands. “It’ll be just us, the wilds, a warm old estate, and the challenge of hunting a few deer. It’ll be great. Dimitri, you still remember how to dress a deer, right?”

Felix snorted. “Like he ever forgot.”

Dimitri leaned forward, grinning. “You always were a bit squeamish when we were children.”

“Ugh, don’t smile at me like that, boar.” Felix looked at Byleth. “How _do_ you put up with this animal?”

“She’s remarkably patient with me,” Dimitri said, looking far too pleased with himself.

Byleth rolled her eyes, rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “I think this trip sounds like fun.” She looked at Dedue. “Plus, imagine the things we can cook.”

“Hey,” Sylvain protested, “I can help.”

“You will be required as the taster,” Dedue said.

“That’s my favorite way to help.”

Dedue and Byleth both shook their heads, equally amused.

Dimitri looked to Felix. “I expect you’ll bring the good wine.”

Felix winked. “That Almyra red won’t go to waste, don’t you worry.”

Sylvain clapped his hands together. “A house reunion in just a few days, and then after the new moon, a hunting trip. I can’t wait. We’ll make this one to remember.”

“Here’s to a peaceful trip,” Felix said, raising his half-empty cup. “It’s not quite what I’d use for a toast, but we make do with what we have. What do you say, boar king? Ready for a peaceful adventure?”

Dimitri nodded, and draped an arm over Byleth’s shoulders. “I have my wife and my closest friends to count on. Here’s to it being an adventure we remember fondly.”

“With our luck,” Felix said, “let’s hope so.”

Sylvain grinned. “I can’t wait. Pack warm, Your Majesties. Winter is no joke in Fódlan.”

* * *

They planned the reunion that afternoon, and shortly before sunset, Felix and Sylvain departed for Ingrid and Ashe’s home. Dedue joined them, hoisting a box of spices and assorted fresh herbs. The greenhouse behind the palace was well-stocked and thriving. Sylvain remarked that the box smelled like the dishes Dedue had once prepared for them at Garreg Mach, and that he was eager to try whatever the man from Duscur had planned for the reunion.

Alone, Byleth and Dimitri bid their friends a good night, and settled in. Around nine, Byleth kissed her husband, and decided to take a long soak in the bath before bed. As was their custom, he held her hand as she walked away, until the distance was just enough that their fingertips could touch. She smiled at him, and he watched her depart, comfortable and at ease in the palace for what felt for the first time in months.

After, he sat up late in the library, reading. He’d found an old history of the Adrestian Empire on the shelves the previous Spring, and had nearly tossed it into the fire until he realized there was an inscribed note in the front cover: _“To my dearest Patricia, on our second anniversary. May our love endure. Yours, L.”_

Seeing his father’s handwriting had been jarring; the ink was heavily faded, but the script was distinctive, and Dimitri had never found any other remnants of his father’s papers or records. Cornelia had been thorough in her efforts to purge Faerghus. Dimitri searched high and low during those few weeks after his coronation, before he and his friends marched on Arianrhod and Enbarr, desperately to find anything his father might have left behind. All he had found were scraps of parchment, so heavily faded that he had no idea what they had related to, and a few pieces of his stepmother’s jewelry, which led him to wonder if Cornelia had harbored some nostalgia for Patricia.

Regardless, he hadn’t kept the jewelry. He’d sent the pieces to the nearest blacksmith and asked that they be melted down. The smith had inquired if Dimitri wanted something new to celebrate his coronation or marriage; the answer was a firm ‘no.’ Dimitri wanted nothing of Patricia or Cornelia’s near Byleth or himself, not so much as a ring or bracelet remade from scraps.

Whatever fond memories he had of his stepmother were colored by dread, now, the fear that she had, even unwittingly, caused the deaths of countless innocents. He’d grieved her alongside his father, Glenn, and the people of Duscur, for so many years, heard her voice in the cacophony that assaulted him at all hours during his years of wandering. Even in his recovered, blissfully sane state, he sometimes thought he heard her laughter, a gentle, if somber sound, a contrast to his father’s warm, rich baritone. Her voice was clear, but he could not recall Patricia’s face. If he tried to picture her in his mind, he quickly realized the face he saw was Edelgard’s, and, even then, it was her final face, that hideous, corrupted visage, poisoned by magic, rage, and, ultimately, defiance in the face of her defeat.

His father’s face remained clear in his mind, but that was all that remained. There were no portraits, no papers, not even a trace of his clothing. With Rodrigue dead, and Dimitri’s unreliable memories, Lambert’s erasure was effectively complete. He might never have existed at all, save that when Dimitri looked in the mirror, he thought he saw glimpses of the man in his own face.

He tucked a scrap of silk into the book as a marker, and flipped the pages to that inscription. He wondered what had gone through his father’s mind when he gifted this book to Patricia. Had he thought her sad, and in need of some reminder of the place she’d come from? Or, perhaps it had been Lambert’s way of saying he wanted to know her better, to share a gift that spoke to her on a far more personal level than her stepson could ever understnad? Dimitri hadn’t the faintest idea. He had been too young to ever discuss love and courtship with his father, and by the time he’d come to his senses where Byleth was concerned, he hadn’t had anyone he trusted to give him advice on the matter.

The few gifts he and Byleth had exchanged over the years had been practical. She always knew when he needed a new whetstone, or when his riding boots were too worn to justify repairs. He’d learned how she liked her swords sharpened early on, when they were still teacher and student, and had taken to keeping her favorite blades in the palace armory in pristine condition. He also knew she had a taste for almonds, so her favorite earthy almond tea, and an almond cookie, could go a long way towards putting a smile on her face. He would do anything to see her smile.

_There was a time when I would have bled myself dry to see it._

He closed the book, and returned it to its shelf. He truly had no interest in the history of the now-fallen empire. There would always be stragglers – Von Aufrech and his blade had been proof of that – but the Adrestian Empire would never rise again.

Dimitri sighed. “I spend too much time in my own head,” he muttered. He stretched, raked his hair out of his face, and tended to the fire, spreading the ashes over the bright coals. He moved the grate, blocking the embers, and walked to the library door. The guard stationed outside bobbed his head in greeting. “The fire is burning down,” Dimitri said. “If I’m not back in an hour, would you check on it, please?”

The guard nodded.

Dimitri thanked him, and headed to his rooms, where he changed into warm pajamas. He eased the bedroom door open, not wanting to wake Byleth, but the light from the hallway revealed she was not there. He could not prevent the tight sensation that flooded his chest, the tension and dread, a reflex that would never fade, no matter how far away from the past he got.

He tightened his grip on the door handle, took a deep breath. Perhaps she’d fallen asleep in her own room – _a perfectly reasonable thing; there is no need to feel this way._

_You’re so used to her leaving that you think she’ll leave again. You have her for the entire winter. She’s staying. She is not leaving you behind. She is not going anywhere. She is staying._

_She’s_ staying.

He waited until he’d convinced himself, then walked along the hallway to the Queen’s chambers. He knocked gently on the door, heard no response, and carefully opened the door.

Candles lit the space, and he smelled the calming scent of chamomile flowers and almond oil. He closed the door, crossed into her space, and found her relaxing in the stone tub. Her skin was flushed pink with heat, her eyes half-closed, pale green hair damp from steam. He crouched beside the tub, and she shifted, opened her eyes, and smiled at him.

“I see the bath had the desired effect,” he said, managing a smile for her. He felt his tension fading by the second. _A nice warm bath does wonders._

She nodded, and yawned. “I suppose the long ride finally caught up with me. I didn’t want to get out.”

He laughed. “I’ve been there.”

“Were you waiting up for me?”

“No, I simply noticed you weren’t in bed. I thought I should investigate.”

“Good thing you did. I would’ve fallen asleep right here.”

“I can think of better places to fall asleep.”

Byleth’s smile could warm him through and through, especially when she smiled like she did now: genuine, wide, and full of love for him. She stood and climbed out of the rub, stretching her limbs as she did. She reached for a towel, dried herself off while he watched, and knotted the towel around herself while she walked into the main room to fetch her sleep clothes. She changed, and he immediately reached for her, hugged her as tightly as he could.

“I’m staying,” she said softly, as if she could read his mind. “I’m staying right here, Dimitri, with you, in our home. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead. “You know how I am.”

“I do,” she confirmed. “I know, and I love you all the same.”

He took her hand, and led her to the door. She waved her free hand, and, one by one, the candles died in their wake. They walked to their bedroom, and as soon as they were inside, he locked the door, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the bed. There was no greater warmth for the cold winter nights than to have her with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Byleth woke up with a soft _hah_ escaping her lips. The dream faded as quickly as it had surged through her mind: the strange man in white from the Verzhed Woods, with his cold hands, his pristine robes, and his sensory-stealing magic. Byleth closed her eyes tightly, willed the image again. Mere weeks had passed since their encounter, since Dimitri, Dedue, Felix, and Sylvain had rescued her, nearly getting themselves killed in the process.

Despite the heavy blanket covering her, she shivered. She could remember that strange detachment so clearly, the horrific feeling of being emptied of all emotion and sensation. She felt a chill snake down her spine, and, disturbed, she moved closer to Dimitri. He mumbled something unintelligible, but did not wake. She laid her head against his shoulder, rested her palm on his chest, breathed in time with the steady, familiar rhythm of his heartbeat.

When she closed her eyes, she expected to tumble into the calming dark of sleep. Instead, she saw that strange man’s hand reaching for her face, his numbing fingers, and the frozen magic that chilled her body, and stole everything that gave her life. It might have been seconds or minutes, she did not care, but she could not remain in the bed while her mind waged little games with her peace.

She sat up, prepared to slip from beneath the covers. She tensed when she felt Dimitri’s fingers graze her left hand.

“Byleth? Are you all right?” he murmured; his voice thick with sleep.

“It’s nothing,” she assured him.

His thumb rubbed gently over the pulse point at her wrist. “You’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour.”

“I thought you were asleep.” She tried to sound teasing, and failed.

He laced his fingers between hers. “Byleth.”

She sighed. “I had a bad dream,” she admitted. She turned, bent down, and kissed his forehead. “It was just a dream.”

“A dream that troubles you.” He pulled her down next to him, kept their hands together. “Tell me about it?”

She let out a soft breath. “I thought I’d put that whole thing in the Verzhed Woods behind me, but it seems that it’s going to stick around for a bit longer. I see that awful man, and I feel his hands on my throat again. I know he’s dead; I know I’m safe, and that you and our friends are safe, too, but, sometimes my mind doesn’t remember.” She sighed. “Do you know what I mean?”

“It was over two years ago, but I dream about Gronder Field more often than I’d like,” he confessed. He raised his free hand, brushed her hair from her face, tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “I dreamed about our first fight, too.” He chuckled. “We were both quite stubborn, beloved, and stubborn people in a war make for interesting partnerships.”

“’Interesting.’” She snorted softly. “We beat the hell out of each other right before one of the most important battles of our lives.”

“That we did.” He raised his fingers, spread the fingers of her left hand. He traced his thumb along the joints connected to her palm, where he felt faint raised scars. “I still blame myself for these.”

“You shouldn’t. I was careless.” She closed her fingers around his. “We didn’t exactly see eye to eye at that point.”

“Even so, I should have had more control.”

“Didn’t I tell you if you wanted to pick a fight with someone, I was right there?”

“ _You_ picked a fight with _me_.”

“And I won, too.”

He scoffed. “Hardly.”

“I had you on your knees,” she teased.

“Only because you took my feet out from under me.” He chuckled. “Devious little mercenary.”

“We fight with the tricks we have.”

“That we do,” he said, kissing her knuckles, before he added, with a mischievous tone, “It _was_ a good fight, Byleth.”

“I kept telling the others to stay out of your way, and I couldn’t take my own advice.” She huffed a soft laugh. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing with you, but, yes, it was a good fight.”

He pulled her into a tight hug. “Yes, it was,” he rumbled. “And, to think, less than a week after our first sparring match, I had you on your back.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t you remember? That night we tumbled into your bed.”

“Hey,” she protested, “that is _not_ how it happened.”

“It isn’t?” he asked innocently.

“We beat the hell out of one another, we went to Gronder Field, we barely survived, _you_ got stabbed, Rodrigue died, and I managed to convince you to stay with us.”

“It was raining,” he said. “I remember we ended up in your room, because I didn’t want to be alone. Then we ended up in your bed.”

“Where we _slept_.”

“Yes. Together. For the first time.”

She laughed. “You are being very smug about this.”

“I am,” he agreed, and nuzzled her throat. “Perhaps it’s because grief and tragedy brought us together, and I want to live every day that I can with you, celebrating that we are alive and in love.” He kissed her. “And I do love you, beloved.”

“I love you,” she echoed. She trailed her fingers through his hair. “How ever did I get so lucky to call you my own?” she murmured.

“We shared a lifetime’s worth of experiences,” he said. “Even our friends will never really know how deep the scars go.” His fingers lingered over her back, felt several raised scars, old and knew, familiar and not. “Every scar the Blue Lions carry is partially because of me,” he said quietly. “I regret the wounds, the battles I led us into, but I don’t regret who I was back then. Without the beast, I’m not truly me.”

“Dimitri,” she scolded gently.

He kissed her forehead. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “Felix says we’ll need that beast inside of you again, one day. I don’t know if I believe him, but I know that without our scars, without the experiences we’ve shared, that I wouldn’t have you. So, for all the chaos that you brought to my life, I wouldn’t trade a second of it.”

“Ah, so the chaos is entirely my fault, eh?”

“Well, you _did_ stumble in our camp outside Remire all those years ago,” she reminded him. “If you hadn’t done that, then my father and I would’ve just kept travelling.”

“You saved our lives that day.” He stroked a fingertip along her cheekbone. “For all the hell that came after, I wouldn’t trade that day for anything. I met you; I learned to live because of you.”

“I learned to smile because of you.”

“I will never forget the first time I saw you smile,” Dimitri said, trailing his thumb over her lips. “When I _really_ saw you smile, after the mock battle back before the war. It changed your entire face. Maybe,” he continued, cradling her face in his hand, “that’s when I knew I could trust you. Once I knew that, I suppose, it all fell into place, but I couldn’t say anything. It felt strange, wrong, even, to tell you how I felt. We were such different people.”

She turned her face, kissed his palm. “Come on,” she said. “Serious conversations don’t belong in the bedroom.”

He nodded. They got up, gathered their clothes, dressed in the dark. As they approached the door, Dimitri caught her shoulder, bowed his head, and kissed her. “I’m glad you’re home, beloved.”

“I am home,” she agreed. The nightmare had long faded from her mind. She took his hand, leading him out the door.

* * *

In her chambers, she lit candles with a wave of her hand, casting the room in a gentle orange glow. She sat in the comfortable stuffed reading chair, while Dimitri dragged an ottoman over, sat in front of her. Byleth trailed her fingers through his hair, gently applied pressure behind his ears with her thumbs. He let out a soft groan, leaned his head back in her hands.

“What’s on your mind?” he murmured. “That you didn’t want to talk about in the other room?”

She started to talk:

“I knew I could trust you after my father died. You were the first one there. You help me up, you promised to help me get revenge. I didn’t ever have to say the words. You knew what I needed to hear, what was going to help me the most.” She raked her fingertips back from his forehead, dragged his bangs away from his face. “I was still your teacher, even if I considered all of you my friends, and you were the only one who took my hand and didn’t try to tell me that it would be all right.”

“You had your father longer than I had mine,” he said quietly. “When my father died, Dedue was the only person who was there for me, and I had to step in front of him, to save him from the Kingdom soldiers. They would’ve killed him, but I was the prince. I was badly wounded, barely alive, but one word from me, and they left him alone.” His single eye opened, peered at her. “Jeralt was a good man. I know he thought we were all spoiled brats at the academy. I can only imagine what he’d think of me now.”

She leaned forward, kissed his forehead. “I think, if he’d lived, and seen the man you’ve become, he’d accept us as we are. Eventually.”

“’Eventually,’ eh?”

“What would your father make of me?”

“I’m not sure.” Dimitri shook his head. “Honestly, Rodrigue’s opinion mattered far more, by the time I cared about a parent’s thoughts on such things. He respected you. You had an expert command of magic and the blade. He appreciated both.” He blinked. “It took his death for me to see just how far I’d fallen. It took you saving my life, again, to really see that.”

She cradled his head, stroked her fingers down the sides of his face, down to his jaw. “I’d do it again,” she assured him.

He caught one of her hands, kissed her fingertips “I wish you’d never had to kill for me.”

“I was a mercenary long before I met you, Dimitri. I’ve been killing to save my own life, and others’ lives, since I was a teenager.” She wrinkled her nose. “I think. My father liked his secrets as much as he liked his whiskey.”

He laughed. “For the sake of argument, Byleth, we’ll always say you’re just a year older than I am.”

She smiled, kissed his forehead. “I can live with that.” She brushed his hair out of his face. “What a pair we make.”

“What a pair,” he agreed. “If we hadn’t met you outside Remire, where do you think you’d’ve ended up?”

“I don’t know. My father called the shots, he took the contracts. I might have ridden with him until he couldn’t ride any longer. I never imagined a life outside of his company. I never thought I’d be a teacher, or a leader of any kind.” She stroked her fingers along his temple. “I never thought I’d be a queen, or an archbishop, or even married.”

His blue eye sparkled. “You mean you never imagined a handsome prince sweeping you off your feet?”

Dryly, she said, “Dimitri, my father gave me my first sword when I was eight.”

He laughed. “I think I was six when my father gave me mine.”

She smiled. “What was he like?”

“He was kind, strong – he could carry Areadbhar in one hand, and never break stride – and I remember the way he smiled when he saw my stepmother.” His smile wavered. “He loved her, but I don’t know what that meant for them.” He turned to face her, rested his forearms on her legs. “You taught me how to love, how to show it, with words and without.” He tangled his fingers in a lock of her pale green hair. “As much as I wish he’d lived, without his death, I would never know you. There are so many small factors in our lives, and one drift of the snow, one cloud in the sky, one different step on a path, and you and I might never have been.”

She caught his face between her hands, kissed him. “Fate is a cruel thing,” she murmured, “but I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.”

“I would move mountains for you,” he promised. “I have gone through hell for you, and I would do it again.” He closed his eye, took a soft breath. Softly, he said, “I don’t know what love meant to my father and my stepmother, but I know what it means to me. It means having you as my friend, my partner, my wife. It’s more than just saying that I love you, because anyone can say those words. It means having you, who can change my mood with a smile, who can look me in the eye and tell me what I’m thinking, who can fight with me one moment and love me the next, and never make me doubt my sanity or myself.”

She draped her arms around his neck. “You romantic fool,” she whispered.

“I must be,” he agreed softly. “For you, I will always be a fool.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

She hugged him. He rested his face against the crook of her neck, breathed in her scent, returned the embrace. His fingers trailed up her back, slid into her hair. He closed his eye, and held her. She basked in his warmth, his gentle hands, and thought she loved him a bit more.

Dimitri cradled his wife against him. _We might have a language of love and loss all our own, but I would not trade a word of it. You are my own, my beloved, and I will hold you close forever._


	6. Chapter 6

Byleth and Dimitri entered the dining hall the next morning and found Ashe, Ingrid, and Dedue deep in conversation. They got within earshot just in time to hear Ingrid’s final comments: “… so you should probably warn Her Grace that Annette is on her way.”

“Why would I need a warning?” Byleth wondered.

Ashe yelped in surprise, while Ingrid gracefully walked by him and gave Byleth a warm hug. Byleth returned it, stepped back, held her former student by the shoulders. “Look at you,” Byleth said, while Ingrid blushed fiercely. “You’re more beautiful every time I see you. Dimitri, when are you promoting her to captain of your knights?”

“Eventually,” Dimitri said, winking at his old friend. “More importantly, Ashe, when are you two making this official?”

Ashe turned a magnificent shade of scarlet.

Dedue chuckled. “I did warn you that he’d ask,” he said.

Ashe sighed. “You did.”

Ingrid laughed. “We’ll get there when we get there,” she said, and took Ashe’s hand. He beamed.

Byleth could not have felt prouder. She glanced at Dimitri, who made no effort to hide his grin. “It’s good to see you two. What brings you here this early?”

“Annette and Mercedes stopped by our home; they’re plundering the bakery as we speak. Dedue asked us to help with whatever they need carried back. Plus, he and Ashe were talking about a salmon, and arguing about the best spices for it.” Ingrid shrugged. “Personally, I don’t care what they put on it. Everything those two cook together is delicious.”

Dimitri snickered. “His Eminence strikes again.”

Ingrid frowned.

“Don’t ask,” Byleth pleaded.

“Right,” Ingrid said skeptically. She looked at Dimitri. “Is there some joke I’m not aware of, or…?”

“No,” Dimitri said, “just some noble who makes me laugh.”

“… Genuinely?”

“Genuinely.”

“Huh. Well. This I might have to see.”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Byleth said. “I’m still not convinced this man is real.”

“Oh, he’s very real,” Dimitri assured her.

“I can confirm,” Dedue said. “His Eminence is quite real, and quite strange.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Though the fish he delivers is quite good.”

Byleth groaned.

Ingrid shook her head. “If it tastes good, I’m in.”

Dedue gestured. “Ashe, do you care to inspect the spices we discussed?”

“I’m curious about this paste you mentioned. Oil, garlic, and what was it? Paprika?”

“Paprika, cinnamon, black pepper, a few ground up hot peppers, and a touch of salt.”

“Well, it sounds delicious. Lead on.” They wandered to the kitchen, and returned a few minutes later. Ashe looked deep in thought.

“You’re too young to be so serious,” Ingrid teased him gently.

Ashe lifted his head. “Oh, no, I was just thinking about spice ratios to the size of that fish. We might have to get creative.”

Ingrid grinned.

“Which just means there will be more tasty things to try,” Ashe said brightly.

Dedue nodded. “I believe we will have some very good food at our reunion.”

“That’s half the fun, isn’t it?” Ingrid smiled at Byleth. “And I’m sure there will be good wine this time around, too.”

“Of course,” Byleth said. She looked at Dimitri. “I’m leaving that selection to His Majesty and Felix. They seem to know the most.”

“I trust Felix’s opinion.”

“On wine?”

“And other things.” Dimitri shrugged. “But mostly wine.” He smiled. “Well, shall we venture out into this cold morning and meet our friends?”

An hour later, they were walking the streets of Fhirdiad, warmly dressed, laughing and talking. Ingrid was excited about a newborn pegasus colt, and insisted that Byleth come see the animal at some point while she was in the Kingdom. “It’s a beautiful pegasus,” Ingrid said. “I’ve never seen one with a black mane before.” She smiled at Dedue. “It looks a bit like Fern.”

“It does?”

“Yes, I think it will have spots on its flanks, kind of like Fern does. The pegasus won’t be anywhere near as big as she is, mind you, but I’d wager we can train a pegasus to be as good as any war horse.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dimitri said, smiling. “Fern’s the best war horse in the Kingdom.”

“This is a fact,” Dedue said proudly.

Ingrid laughed. “Well, then, you’ll have to visit, too. Maybe Fern can teach this new pegasus some tricks.”

Dimitri grinned. “You hear that, Dedue? It sounds like Ingrid’s competing.”

“I’m always up for a good challenge,” Ingrid said.

Dedue looked thoughtful. “Perhaps an endurance test, when the colt is old enough to fly.”

“Now you’re talking.” Ingrid beamed. “Ashe? Should we find a wyvern for you?”

“I haven’t ridden in ages,” he said, “but I’m game. We could train the colt together, make sure it’s ready for anything.” He waved his hands. “Too bad the worst of the snow’s come already.”

“Are you sure about that?” Ingrid laughed. “This is Faerghus. We’ll have snow for the next three months. Good thing you’re staying in one place, eh, Your Grace?”

Ashe’s smile took over his entire face. “It’ll be so great to have you around for longer than a month. Maybe you and His Majesty can come visit us?”

Dimitri and Byleth nodded.

“Fantastic. Let us know. Oh, Your Grace, do you still like to cook?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then you should join Dedue and me sometime. He’s been teaching me some Duscur cuisine, and I’ve been sharing some of the food my parents used to make. We’re creating some really delicious dishes.”

“It’s true,” Ingrid said. “I can confirm it.”

“And you were so timid about trying the Duscur spices,” Ashe teased.

“I was not,” Ingrid protested. “I just wasn’t _prepared_.”

Byleth looked at Dedue. “What did you make?”

“Rice and stewed meat,” he replied, as if it were the simplest dish in the world.

“Oh, no,” Byleth said, “I know how you cook. You got creative, didn’t you?”

“I don’t care if he did, it was _delicious_ ,” Ingrid said, grinning. “The rice was almost like spiced porridge, and the meat was so tender I was cutting it with a spoon. Ashe has made the same dish a few times since; he’s always changing the spices a bit, but it’s so good.”

Dimitri chuckled. “That’s what Dedue’s cooking does, Ingrid, it sneaks up on you and becomes your favorite dish.”

“I can’t _wait_ to taste what you do with that salmon,” Ingrid said excitedly.

“We have ideas,” Ashe and Dedue said in unison.

Dimitri was still roaring with laughter when they arrived outside the bakery. Annette and Mercedes were outside. Annette’s cheeks were pink with cold, and she chattered happily with Felix and Sylvain, while Mercedes waved excitedly in greeting. “Hello, everyone!” She met Byleth halfway and gave her a warm hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t get much of a chance to talk to you before I left the monastery; I knew we’d see each other here, though, so we’ll make up for any lost time.”

Felix folded his arms. “Well, it seems we’re all here.”

Annette scurried over and threw her arms around Byleth. “Your Grace! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!”

Byleth hugged her in return. “It’s been a few months,” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic now that you’re all here. Mercie and I put the order in last night, so they’re just packing everything up. We have sweet rolls, tarts, muffins, cookies, and all sorts of goodies.” Annette’s eyes sparkled. “Don’t worry, Felix and Your Majesty – we have some savory treats, too.” She peered intently at them. “Unless you’ve both developed sweet tooths?” she said hopefully.

Felix rolled his eyes.

Dimitri shrugged. “I’m afraid not.”

“I’ll enjoy at least one sweet treat for him,” Byleth promised, winking.

Annette giggled. “They have almond cookies.”

Dimitri tilted his head. “Well, in that case…”

Byleth hugged his arm. “I knew you’d come around eventually.”

“I really only like those,” he protested.

Annette giggled and turned her attention to Felix. “What about you?” she teased. “Have you finally found a sweet that you like?”

Felix sighed. “No.”

“That isn’t strictly true,” Sylvain piped up. “He likes those blueberry licorice cakes.”

Annette wrinkled her nose. “Really?”

“You didn’t need to _tell_ her,” Felix grumbled. “Now I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Sylvain clapped him on the back. “Ah, lighten up, Felix. You’ll go prematurely grey if you’re so serious all the time.”

Felix snorted. “As long as the boar is around, I’m going to go prematurely grey anyway.” Raising his voice, he announced, “Any grey hair I currently I have is his fault.”

“You came by it honestly, Felix,” Dimitri said.

Felix sighed. “May I at least live to see 30 without gaining any more on account of you?”

“I can’t promise anything.”

“Ugh. Your Grace, _do_ something here.”

Byleth laughed, and hugged Dimitri’s arm. “I’m so glad that some people never change.”

Dimitri chuckled, and kissed the top of her head. Then, he deftly stepped away from her, dipped his hand into a snow back and made a snowball. He hurled it right at Felix, who gave the King a disgusted look when it struck his chest.

“Are you a child, now?” Felix wondered, dusting snow from his jacket. He groaned when Sylvain hit him with a separate snowball. “Your Grace,” Felix started, and uttered an undignified yelp when a third ball hit his back. He whirled to find Ingrid, already building a second ball, humming cheerfully. “Oh, that’s it,” Felix said, barely able to control the grin spreading across his face.

Byleth, Dedue, Mercedes, Annette, and Ashe all cleared out of the way as the four old friends proceeded to build and pelt one another with snow. Laughter and cheerful insults flew across the market courtyard. When a few children joined in the fray, Byleth found the little boy from yesterday in front of her, tugging on her hand. “Come _on_ , Your Grace,” he cried, giggling.

Laughing, Byleth, Mercedes, and Annette joined the boy and his friends, while Dedue and Ashe joined the fray with Dimitri and the others. Soon, a full-on snow ball fight had consumed the market. Byleth could not remember the last time she’d had so much fun, nor the last time she’d seen such care free expressions on her friends’ faces. Even Felix was laughing, and when Sylvain tackled him into a snowbank, Ingrid close behind, the entertained shrieks might have belonged to the children they’d once been.

It took the bakery doors opening and the cooks announcing that Annette and Mercedes’s massive order was ready to stop the melee. Everyone was in high spirits, and a bit chilly from snowballs to the face and their damp clothing. The bakery offered hot tea and cocoa to warm them up. Even when they took the boxes containing the pastries and treats – a half dozen hatbox-sized packages between them – they kept handing them off to one another to hurl more snowballs, softer and gentler this time, but enough to keep everyone on their toes.

By the time they reached the palace courtyard, everyone was in high spirits. Ingrid had snow in her hair, Felix’s vest was a soaked mess of snowmelt, and Annette and Sylvain’s faces were a red to match their respective hair colors. Ashe and Dedue had managed to avoid most of the fray, and were congratulating one another on their evasion tactics. Mercedes was the most cheerful of all, and when asked why, she insisted that she simply imagined it was a hot summer day, which helped cope with the cold. Dimitri was comfortably damp with snow, and kept shaking it out of his hair. Byleth shrieked when she pulled her hood up and found a mound of snow inside, much to Dimitri’s endless amusement.

As they delivered the pastries and treats to the palace kitchen, the cook assessed their chilly appearances, and announced that he would have fresh bread and soup ready on the hour. Their unplanned, but very welcome, lunch energized the group, and the roaring fires in the dining room made sure that everyone’s cloaks, coats, and vests dried quickly.

Byleth caught Dimitri’s eye as they chatted with their friends. Warm and comfortable, safe and content inside the palace walls, they shared a common understanding: _had we not found one another, this would never have happened. We would not be sitting here with our friends, we would not laugh or smile, and we would simply not_ be _, if we did not have each other._

They reached for the other’s hand, and held tight.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning found the cook, Dedue, and Ashe focused on preparing for the reunion banquet. The scent of roasting vegetables and meat permeated the entire palace, and the heady smell of rich spices enveloped the hallways when Dedue finally pronounced the salmon ready for the oven. Dimitri and Byleth took turns trying to sneak by their friends to investigate, but were caught each time.

It took until noon for Byleth to finally get into the kitchen. Dedue, tall as he was, poked his head around the doorway and gave Dimitri a disappointed look. “You two are not nearly as stealthy as you think.”

“Oh, come now, you’ve seen us on a battlefield,” Dimitri said.

“I never have to see you,” Dedue said dryly. “You announce your presence rather loudly.” He looked at Byleth, who was intently inspecting the pie crust Ashe was in the middle of. “Unlike Her Grace, who understands the importance of silence.”

Byleth shrugged, and watched Ashe carefully shaping the pie crust into a careful fluted pattern.

Dimitri grinned. “Imagine what mischief our old professor could get up to if she was an enemy scout.”

Dedue groaned.

“Is that his idea of a joke?” Ashe wondered, and shooed Byleth away when she attempted to correct his work. “I think he might need practice.”

Dedue looked at Byleth. “Please do not encourage his sense of humor.”

She smiled. “Is that what that is?”

“He appears to think so.”

“I can hear you all perfectly well,” Dimitri said, leaning against the doorframe.

Dedue sighed. “As long as you do not attempt to _tell_ a joke, I think we will be safe.”

“He would never,” Byleth said, smiling at her husband. “At least not where anyone but me could hear.” Dimitri winked at her.

Dedue shook his head. “I should be grateful Alois isn’t here. _His_ jokes are truly appalling.”

“Alois would try to make people laugh at any event he finds too serious,” Byleth said.

Ashe snorted, and finished pressing the pie dough into the plate. “That’s true. Once, when I was practicing, he made me laugh so hard I missed every shot.”

Dimitri smiled. “He’s a good man. He tells terrible jokes, and he made me laugh back when I didn’t much feel like it.”

Dedue sighed. “I suppose I should thank him for that someday.”

“Laugh at one of his jokes.”

The man from Duscur wrinkled his nose. “You might be asking too much.”

Byleth giggled, and approached the stove, curious about what the cook was doing. He brandished a wooden spoon like a sword at her, and joked that he hadn’t dueled in quite some time but was eager for practice. He then gallantly offered her another wooden spoon, and said, “Your Grace, I find that I need a taster for this sauce. What do you think?” He picked up a pan from the stove, and offered it to her. “Mind your arm, Your Grace. The pan is hot.”

Byleth took the spoon, dipped it inside. She felt her cheeks pink from the burst of heat, followed by an earthy sweetness. “That’s delicious. What is it?”

The cook beamed. “There, Ashe, what did I tell you? I figured out one of Dedue’s secret recipes.”

Dedue peered at the sauce. “It is a bit too thick,” he said, “but it smells correct.” Byleth offered him the spoon; Dedue dipped the handle in the pan and tasted the sauce. “That is quite good. Thin it with a bit of water, and it will be perfect.”

Ashe grinned. “Should we find another fish?”

Dedue smiled. “Not at all. Did you see the size of this one? We’ll baste it with the sauce while it cooks, and the spices will be enhanced.”

The kitchen smelled of chilis, paprika, garlic, and ginger, with hints of cloves and cinnamon. It was a collision of smells and tempting flavors. Byleth was tempted to open the open door and peek at the fish, but suspected that would get her banished from the kitchen forever. Best to wait and enjoy the surprise.

Ashe rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait. This will be delicious.”

“The waiting, as they say, is the hardest part.” Dedue’s eyes sparkled a bit. “Patience is, allegedly, a virtue.”

Dimitri laughed. “Byleth, I think he’s trying to tell us that we’re in his way.”

Byleth threw her hands up. “All right, all right,” she said, laughing. “You win. The whole place smells amazing, but we’ll wait to enjoy it with everyone else.” She looped her arm through Dimitri’s and they departed to get the banquet hall ready for the rest of their friends.

The cook chuckled. “I think you’re the only person in this place those two actually listen to. You’ll have to teach me that trick.”

Dedue looked rather pleased with himself. “A true master never reveals all of his secrets.”

The cook shook his head. “Ah, well, I’ll just satisfy myself with figuring out this particular sauce.” He grinned. “Next time you make your famous stew, though, I’m taking notes.”

“You’ll never get it,” Ashe warned him. “I’ve tried twice. It’s good, but it’s not quite Dedue-level good.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” the cook declared and gestured grandly with his spoon.

Dedue snorted softly and smiled. He appreciated the cook’s enthusiasm. “In that case, open the oven door. The fish should be just about ready for its first round of sauce.”

The cook grinned. “Well, now you’re speaking my language.”

* * *

Dimitri helped a few of the servants rearrange the banquet hall, moving tables and chairs into place. One servant got an enormous laugh out of him by seriously inquiring which table clothes he thought suited the décor. The others seemed startled by the sound; the King rarely laughed, and when he did, there was always some uncertainty in it, like he was pretending at humor. When they realized his amusement was genuine, a few others joined in, snickering at the earnest question of table linens and aesthetics.

Byleth overheard the laughter and it warmed her. To hear him laugh like that when their friends weren’t around was a treat, and she hoped to hear more of it during the long winter. She’d looked forward to his smiles for weeks, and after only a few days, she felt _home_. He was home, he was comfort and security, warmth and strength, and she promised herself that she would never take him for granted.

_Precious things must be treasured, but treasured people are the most precious of all._

Distracted, she went back to her tasks, and gathered platters and dishes, small plates and flatware. She carried them to the banquet tables, careful to line up the large ceramic dishes on the woven trivets

A teenaged servant fussed, complaining that Her Grace was too refined a lady for such tasks. Byleth laughed. “You’ve mistaken me for some other lady, I’m afraid.”

The girl turned a rather brilliant shade of red, and busied herself with straightening the tablecloths. Byleth wanted to tell her to stop, because it wasn’t a formal banquet, but decided to let the woman have her way. She hoped the servants would relax during the winter, perhaps learn that Her Grace was just a person, like them.

 _Not likely,_ she thought with amusement. _Even my friends still call me by my title._

Smiling, she returned to the cupboards, and gathered wine glasses. Knowing their friends, they’d go through several bottles, red and white alike. Dedue and Dimitri knew all the good wines in the palace cellar, but Felix was always able to find the best among them. She’d need to find a few glasses for him, alone.

Felix had a keen nose and palate for good wine, and he’d teased her a time or two about her lack of refinement when it came to vintages. The last time, she’d joked that wine was wine and beer was beer, and how was a poor mercenary to know the difference. Felix had snorted and insisted that ‘poor mercenaries’ damn well knew the difference, and did she know just how many good wines were leftover in his father’s cellar?

He was a great friend, she thought fondly. A good man, a great friend, a charming ass when he was of a mind, and the most reliable blade in Faerghus. That he and Dimitri had repaired their long-broken friendship, and counted on one another, made her feel more reassured than anything. Dedue watched out for Dimitri’s soul when Byleth was gone for long stretches, and made sure that the King remained above the darkness that simmered within him. Felix challenged his mind and fighting skills, kept him sharp, and never allowed the boar within to get _too_ far out of his sight.

She paused in her work, a large-globed glass in her hand. She had missed most of her friends’ misadventure in the Verzhed Woods. She’d seen the aftermath, though, even as she recovered from her own injuries. What the four young men had seen and experienced troubled them all. Dimitri had been honest with her, admitted he’d lost himself to the heat and fear of battle, and the terror that he might have lost her. Dedue, Felix, and Sylvain had brought him back, kept him safe, and he’d saved their lives in turn.

 _We seem to keep saving one another_ , she thought. _No matter how far away from war we get, we are always saving one another. We are protectors, guardians, soldiers…_

She put the glass in her hand down, looked at the ring that sparkled there.

_Even if we wear crows and gems, we are never too far from what we were born to be._

She closed her eyes.

_I don’t know what I was born to be, but I was a mercenary for most of my life. I made a good teacher, a better general. Now, I might have a crown on my head, and a king on my arm, but both he and I know how to use our blades._

_May we never have to use them in battle again._

_We lost too much to the last war. We lost friends, people we knew._

_It is only because of our strength in one another that we didn’t lose the ones we cherish the most._

She was lost in those dreary thoughts when she felt warm breath on her neck, followed by a kiss. “I suspected we’d never be a hands-off royal couple,” Dimitri murmured, and kissed the corner of her jaw.

Happy to leave her melancholy behind, Byleth said, “We can’t seem to let the servants do their jobs.”

“Well, you can’t,” he teased. “Here you are, Queen of Faerghus, getting wine glasses.”

She laughed. “Did they tell you to shoo?”

Dimitri gave an exaggerated shrug. “Apparently, I’m only required when heavy things need lifting.”

Byleth laughed, and turned to face him. She raised her hands, rested them on his shoulders. She admired his face, the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, the touch of scruff, long blond hair tied back, while his blind eye was hidden behind a clean patch. She felt his hand brush her cheek, and he dipped his head to kiss her.

“How did I get so lucky?” she murmured against his mouth.

He chuckled softly. “I ask myself the same question every day. How _did_ I get so lucky?”

“That isn’t the same question.”

“It most certainly is.” He grinned. “After all, I had to be lucky to win your affections.”

“Was it worth it?” she teased.

He kissed her again, and whispered, “You were worth everything.”

She laid her hand against his cheek, studied his face.

_You are my everything, my love. You came back, against all the odds, you came back to me, and we survived. Two and a half years, the seasons change, and we are together again._

_It might be cold in Faerghus, but it’s home, because you’re here. That is a fire that will never die._

She brushed her thumb over his cheekbone. The silken fabric covering his eye caressed her finger, and she stood on her toes to kiss him.

“I just realized something,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t have to look for you anymore. For the next few months, I’ll always know where you are. I’ll wake up beside you, we’ll stay up together, we’ll be together. We’re in one place. Finally.”

Dimitri’s smile faltered for a moment. “You might have to remind me that you’re real,” he admitted. “Sometimes, I don’t trust my own senses, and this still feels like a bit of a dream.”

“We have the entire winter season together,” she told him. “That is no dream.”

He took her hand from his face, pressed her knuckles to his lips. “That will do,” he murmured, meeting her gaze. “This is no dream.”

She smiled.

He laughed softly. “Can you believe, I used to think you didn’t know how to smile.” He brushed a lock of pale hair out of her face. “Now, I can’t imagine your face without seeing it.”

“For you,” she promised, “I will always smile.” She clasped his hand. “After all, you taught me how. You and the others. Without you, without the Blue Lions, I wouldn’t be who I am.”

“The feeling, beloved, is mutual.” He kissed her cheek, and hugged her tightly.

They lingered in the cupboard for a few more minutes, embracing, listening to the silence around them. Byleth pressed her ear to Dimitri’s chest, reveled in his steady heartbeat. Finally, she said, “We should go back. You never know when the rest of our guests will arrive. They’ll want to help.”

“The servants will protest,” he teased.

“Well, we’ll make a game of it, then.”

“Speaking of games, we don’t want to miss Annette’s show when she arranges all those pastries.” Dimitri grinned. “She did mention almond cookies.”

Byleth picked up a tray of wine glasses. “I wouldn’t miss that for anything.”

Dimitri took the other tray and followed her to the banquet hall.

They returned to the banquet hall, just in time to hear Annette’s laughing protests. Sylvain had cheekily stolen a sweet biscuit, and Annette stood, hands on hips, teasing him for his inability to wait until she’d arranged everything properly. Mercedes and Ingrid stood nearby, laughing and holding their sides.

Felix met Byleth and Dimitri halfway between the cupboard and the wine tables. “I see you two _were_ making yourselves useful.”

“We have our moments,” Dimitri said, happy to go along with the good-natured jab.

“Whatever is happening in that kitchen smells incredible,” Felix said. “I’ve been dying to look, but I swear Dedue and Ashe are watching me somehow. Each time I get close, they manage to intercept me. I don’t get it.”

Byleth smiled. “They kicked us out, too.”

“Did they now? Well, maybe it’s worth waiting on.” He took the tray of glasses from her. “You’ll both be glad to know that I’ve contributed three bottles to tonight’s celebration.”

“Good wines, I hope.”

“My lady, I only drink good wine.” Felix winked. “Besides, it’s only enjoyable if shared with good company.”

Dimitri nodded. “I’m glad you’re here, Felix.”

“So am I,” Felix said. He turned his attention to Annette, who had wrangled Sylvain into helping her arrange the treats. “Well, seems he’s occupied.”

“Just watch, she’ll tell him she doesn’t like it, and they’ll start all over.”

“We may need wine to watch that spectacle.”

“Maybe you should rescue him,” Byleth suggested.

“No,” Felix said, dusting his hands off after putting the glasses down. “I think I’ll join Annette’s team and give orders.”

“Well, this will be a disaster,” Dimitri mumbled, and pulled Byleth into a one-armed hug. “What do you think?”

She listened to the sounds of laughter and conversation, smelled the decadent aromas drifting from the kitchen, and closed her eyes for a moment, taking it all in.

“Byleth?”

“I was just thinking,” Byleth said, draping her arm around Dimitri’s waist, “that we are home.”

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.” He kissed the top of her head, and they went to join their friends.

_Fin_


End file.
